deepundergroundpoetry.com

Calculating Fuck

Calculating fuck face, with one foot in the grave.
Can't look me in the eye because I already have my name on a plate.
Look, this is where I died, do you like me now?
I died from the shit you fed me, lies of sweet fucking prejudice.

Feel my foot in your face as I stomp you down to size again.
You're six feet under, forgetting to breathe,
Because in you there's not enough smarts to stop knocking your knees.
Shut the fuck up, you don't know anything of me other than the label you stuck there.

Tell me, does this rag smell like chloroform to you?
Well it better, because trust me, you're gonna want to be out for this.
Because I'm a calculating fuck face, and I'm so fucking great,
I made you your own plate to stick on your grave.